Fate Always Disagrees with Us
by FanGirlofManyThings
Summary: AU- Totalitarism world, modern-ish. Smellerbee is on the run from the fire nation, when she saves a boy who will change all of her plans.


Chapter One – A Chance Meeting

"_Run, Hide, I love you_." Those were the last words my mother ever spoke to me. My father's last words had been spoken years earlier. It was four hours after my mother told me to run and I was alone on the streets with nothing more then my knife and my emergency survival pack.

It was mid-spring so when the sun fell it was going to get cold. But that was the least of my troubles, roaming the streets were the Dai Li. The Dai Li are a nasty group of criminals with government commissioned powers to "deal" with those found breaking the ever-growing list of laws.

I was making my way towards the forest on the outskirts of the city where I was more likely to survive the night (the Dai Li didn't go in there very much, rumors of evil spirits kept them at bay), when I came across a group of Dai Li "officers" beating on a tall skinny boy in an alley.

He was attempting to fight back but fighting clearly wasn't his forte. I was going to keep walking, it's every man for himself out here, when I noticed something odd. The boy wasn't yelling out for help like most do. In fact accept for the occasional grunt he wasn't making much noise at all. This really caught my attention and with out really thinking I whipped out my knife, stowed my pack out of sight and jumped into the fray.

There were four Dai Li men, each armed with a mean looking blade. They paused for a moment in confusion and that pause was all I needed to take own one of the four. I gave him a nasty blow to the head with the handle of my knife causing him to sprawl out on the ground unconscious. Then the other three regained their senses and were on me. Fighting always felt like a dance to me; a deadly and dangerous dance. In a whirl of delicately chosen steps, flashing blades and fists we fought. I never fought to kill; that wasn't how my parents had taught me. I can still remember my father's words "_If you fight to kill you are no better then them_." His lessons were all I had left now; they were my code to live by. So using the handle of my knife more then the blade I sent each man to the ground.

"Damn," I scowled looking down at a nasty cut along my arm. It wasn't life threatening but it would deffinatly scar. Not that it bothered me much, scars were permanent memories and I needed one for this day. After assessing myself for any other injuries, and finding only minor ones, I looked around for the boy. I found him standing a few feet away clutching a bow and quiver.

I walked towards him slowly, the way one approaches a scared kitten, sheathing my knife in the process. When I was about a foot from him I stopped.

"They call me Smellerbee," I said in an even tone. He said nothing but looked at me with a very intense expression.

"Are you hurt?" I had intended to go solo from the moment I left me house. However the last thing I wanted to do was leave an injured person alone. Again I got no verbal response from him, but he glanced down at his leg. It was then that I noticed the blood covering his pant leg extending from his knee to mid-shin. He also appeared to be leaning heavily on the dumpster; although the fact that he was still standing was encouraging.

"Can you walk on it?" At this point I wasn't expecting a verbal answer and I didn't get one. He did, however, take an experimental step forward and stumbled just a bit. He looked at me with another intense expression as though challenging me to think him weak.

"Alright, we need to get out of hear before they weak up" I said jerking my thumb in the direction of the Dai Li thugs. He nodded in agreement. I turned on my heel and walked towards my bag. Picking it up and throwing it over my shoulder, I looked back, expecting the boy to be right behind me. But he hadn't moved from his spot by the dumpster.

"Are you coming or not?" I asked a tad bit impatient. I wanted to put a good deal of distance between these bozos and me. He nodded once and took a step forward. Mid-step his injured leg gave out and he fell to his knees. I knew from experience that had to hurt. And yet he still didn't utter a sound. I shouldered my pack and walked back to him. I stood in front of him and offered my hand to him. He looked unsure at first but gripped my hand and allowed me to help him to his feet

"Lean on me" I told him. He gave me a look that I'm sure must have meant something, slung his quiver and bow across his back and wrapped his right arm across my shoulder.

With him using me as a crutch we made it to the forest that surrounded the city. I half dragged him about 6 feet into the trees. I took one look at his face and knew he wouldn't make it much further. His face was white and his jaw was set. I found a clump of bushes that would do for cover. I dragged him behind them and leaned him gently up against a tree. I swung my pack off of my shoulders and started to rummage through. Eventually I came up with my medical kit but not before dumping half of the contents on the ground.

Turning back to him I saw that his eyes were half closed and he was breathing slightly heavier then a normal person.

"Fuck," I cursed aloud. He had lost more blood then I'd originally thought. I rolled his pant leg up as carefully as I could manage. I wet a cloth with clean water from my canteen and gingerly wiped the blood from his leg. After that I probed the wound and discovered it to be about three quarters inches deep and three inches long. It wasn't gushing blood, so I was fairly confident that an artery hadn't been cut. I poured anti-septic on a clean cloth.

"This might sting," I warned him and then cleaned the area surrounding the wound. His jaw clenched as soon as the cloth touched his leg.

"Alright," I said in a low, even voice, "I have to put a few stitches in it," I rolled up the wet cloth, "Bite on this so you don't bite your tongue." He bit down on the cloth I offered him. I strung my needle and quickly as I could stitched the skin back together. I wrapped it in a clean gauze bandage and backed away from him.

He spit the cloth out and but it in my kit. He gave me a look that possibly could have been gratefulness. Then he pulled a red shawl off of his shoulders, balled it up under his head and fell asleep. I first bandaged my own arm then put away the med kit and everything that had fallen out of my bag. I then went to the opposite side of the little clearing we were in and lay down to sleep facing the boy. I couldn't keep calling him boy though. But he didn't' seem inclined to speak or tell me his name.

I would have to give him a nickname then. But what to call him? I lay there in thought for a while and then my eyes fell on his bow which he had laid on the ground not more then an inch from his hand.

"Longshot," I breathed just as sleep overcame me.


End file.
